


twenty questions

by nearly_theyre



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Nonbinary Fukunaga Shouhei, Strangers to Lovers, Texting, a tiny bit of angst, set in a small college town in america
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28284417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nearly_theyre/pseuds/nearly_theyre
Summary: “Well, if we’re going to sit here getting to know each other, we might as well do it right. Twenty questions, ten for you and ten for me. Full honesty,” Kenma challenged, smiling.“That’s not how you play twenty questions.”or: Kenma hates his job, Kuroo is a dork, and the two of them learn to love each other in twenty questions (or less)
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 23
Kudos: 107
Collections: Kuroken Christmas Exchange 2020





	twenty questions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiredaroaceperson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredaroaceperson/gifts).



> hello friends !! 
> 
> this fic is my gift for ace ([@tiredasexual on twitter](https://twitter.com/tiredasexual)) as part of the 2020 Kuroken Christmas Exchange! I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> a huge, huge thank you my beta's ([chi](https://twitter.com/got2ghost) , [nation](https://twitter.com/yamastarss) , and [morgs](https://twitter.com/mxmorgie)) for your hard work in making this readable and to everyone who has supported me in the course of writing this fic! also, a big thank you to the kuroken christmas exchange moderators for their hard work! 
> 
> also a small note: this fic is set in a college town in the US—for this reason, the characters generally use their first names.

Being a college student was the second worst decision Kenma had ever made—the first being a college student awake at 5 AM on a Friday morning.

As Kenma slowly approached the plain wooden door of _Cat’s Cradle & Coffee_, the coffee shop he was currently employed at, he considered just turning around and texting Keiji that he couldn’t make it—but he remembered the look on his face last night and knew that he couldn’t do his friend and night manager dirty like that. 

_ “You want me to work  _ when _?” Kenma had blurted out, hands frozen in place as he stopped adding whipped cream to a customer's hot chocolate to turn and face his manager. Keiji stood to his right, his footing solid but his hands wrung on his apron._

_ “I wouldn’t ask you to work opening if I had a choice Kenma, you know that,” Keiji had said, jerking forward to take the whipped cream and hot chocolate cup out of his hands. Kenma stood, processing as he watched Keiji quickly finish adding whip and a lid before passing it off to the young blonde woman with a smile.  _

_ Kenma sighed, moving to the back sink to rinse off his hands. “Why do you want me to be here at five in the morning on my day off?”  _

_ Some of the tension in Keiji’s shoulders seemed to seep out at his resigned tone, and he jumped on the lack of hostility and ran with it. He placed both hands on Kenma’s shoulders and guided him to the back room, pushing him down into a chair and sitting across the desk from him. _

_ Kenma hated his job.  _

_ “One of the openers called out sick and no one else is available to cover.” _3 

_ “You’re absolutely positive about this?”  _

_ Keiji nodded, pulling out a sheet of paper that listed the schedule and pushed it across the desk towards him _

_ “Mori?” _

_ “On vacation in Russia.”  _

_ “Lev?”  _

_ “Moping because Morisuke is in Russia.” _

_ “Can’t the two people already scheduled cover it?”  _

_ Keiji shook his head aggressively. “I couldn’t do that to Nobuyuki.”  _

_ Kenma didn’t know who that was, but if the other person on shift with him was so bad he couldn’t be left alone, then Kenma didn’t want to be known as the coworker who left others in the lurch.  _

_ He sighed, tugging on the two strands of hair that frame his face. “And Konoha and Washio are working nights and Shouyou has that date tomorrow. I get it.”  _

_ Keiji let a tentative smile cross his face. “So you’ll cover the shift tomorrow?” _

_ Kenma leaned back in his chair, pushing his hands under his thighs and letting one foot bounce rapidly. “If I can leave an hour early tonight.”  _

_ Glancing up from the desk’s carefully organized chaos, Kenma internally grimaced at the crazed smile gracing Keiji’s face. “It’s a deal, Kenma.”  _

Now, opening the front door of _Cat’s Cradle_ and stepping into the warm building, he wished he had heeded the warning in Keiji’s smile.

“HEY HEY HEY!!! You’re Kenma, right? Keiji told me you would be covering this morning's shift!” Before he could even close the door behind him, Kenma was swamped with the overwhelming presence of one of the only other employees crazy enough to be regularly clocked in at this hour. 

The man bounding towards him was tall, definitely over six feet, and had broad shoulders that barely seemed to fit in his tight shirt. His hair was spiked straight up, grey and black strands creating a dynamic look that definitely matched his exuberant personality. _Did he dye his eyebrows or was this man just a freak of nature?_

The man slid to a stop in front of Kenma, his apron fluttering around him as he leaned down to get into Kenma’s face. “You _are_ Kenma, right?” Kenma jerked his head to the side to avoid the strangers big golden eyes and took a step back, pressing his back to the now closed front door. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, silently willing this force of nature to just _take a damn step back_. “Who’re you?” 

Another stranger appeared behind the grey-haired weirdo, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently pulling him back. _This_ stranger was considerably calmer, with short cropped hair and a manager's name tag neatly pinned in the corner of his apron. “Please excuse him, he had two shots of espresso before I had a chance to stop him. My name is Nobuyuki Kai, I’m the opening manager. And this,” Nobuyuki said, gesturing vaguely at the man beside him, “is Koutarou Bokuto.” 

Kenma nodded gratefully to Nobuyuki and pushed his shaky hands into his jean pockets. _Thank god there was someone sane here._

“I’m Kenma Kozume.” Kenma pushed off the door and fell into step behind Nobuyuki as the three of them walked over to the counter to start prepping. “Is it just the three of us this morning?” 

Nobuyuki nodded, moving to one of the fridges to pull out the syrups and set up the counterspace. Koutarou bounded back over to Kenma’s side, looping one arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a side hug. _This is torture_. 

Cringing, Kenma pushed against Koutarou’s side—the man had abs of steel, _what the hell_ —as the taller man laughed loudly. “Welcome to the morning shift, Kenma!” 

⸻

The morning shift, as it turned out, was even worse than the closing shift. 

Unlike closing, which had a lot less customer interaction and a lot more prepping for the next day, the opening shift was slammed with rush after rush of inpatient customers desperate to get their caffeine before attending class or working their menial 9 to 5s.

Kenma despised it. 

Luckily, after the third or so Karen that threatened to call the shop's owner, Nobuyuki moved Koutarou from where he was grinding away at creating intricate latte art to the register, leaving Kenma to hide behind the large machines. After the fifth time someone handed him back an order (because _he obviously hadn’t made it correctly, I ordered this as a large!_ even though Kenma had ears and could clearly hear the original order), he was almost willing to risk manning the register again. 

But even the morning rush died out, leaving the three men to work through refilling and cleaning to make it easier on the later shifts. After wiping down the counters and tables, Kenma tossed the rag into the laundry bin and threw a _“I’m taking my ten!”_ to Nobuyuki, who nodded and moved to make sure Koutarou was filling the machines with the right beans.

Sitting in the break room was the highlight of Kenma’s day. While it wasn’t that big, it did feature comfy seating and outlets, which combined with the fact that customers couldn’t see him, really solidified Kenma’s affection. 

Kenma threw himself onto the corner chair, pulling his feet under him and curling into his black turtleneck. Setting an alarm for ten minutes, Kenma stuck in his headphones and opened _Candy Crush_. 

He didn’t even get three levels in before the door to the break room slammed open, revealing _another_ stranger standing in the doorway who panted heavily. His hair was wild, half of it hanging in front of one eye and the other sticking straight up like some dark, strange rooster was sitting on the back of his head. His hazel eyes were wide open, sharp and calculating and put Kenma a little on edge. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, the black snake bites contrasting his soft-looking lips. The stranger’s clothes were effortlessly disastrous, a cheesy graphic t-shirt with a rumpled collar that showed off his arms nicely, and some ripped jeans combined with a pair of high-end red sneakers. 

Kenma blinked, breaking the staring contest he was having with this tall weirdo standing in the break room doorway. Looking down at his knees, Kenma pulled out one earbud and threaded it between his fingers. “Who are you?” 

The stranger cleared his throat, adjusting his stance so that he was leaning against the doorway instead of standing like a starfish in the middle. “You can call me anything you want,” he said, managing to keep a straight face just long enough for Kenma to think _I can call you pretty fucking annoying._ Hegrinned at Kenma and slouched over to him. “My name is Tetsurou Kuroo, but most people just call me Kuroo. I usually work the morning shift you so, uh, graciously agreed to cover.” The stranger— _Kuroos_ —smile was crooked. 

Kenma stilled his fidgeting, putting both feet back on the floor to push up to stand. “ _I’m_ here because someone called in sick. That person wouldn’t have happened to be you, would it?” 

Kuroo let out a cackle, taking a step forward into the breakroom. “Yeah, that was me. There was an event out of town last night that I really wanted to go to and I wasn’t sure if I was gonna make it back in time for work _and_ get enough sleep. Sorry you had to cover for me though, I figured Nobuyuki and Kou would’ve just toughed out the morning crowd.” 

“An event?” 

“Yup! There was a volleyball game last night in the city—a big time team from down South came up here to compete and I just _had_ to see it! The afterparty was killer too, like you wouldn’t _believe_ —” Kuroo kept talking, but Kenma was quick to tune out his babble. His rambling would’ve been cute if Kenma wasn’t so pissed. 

Kenma strided forward, placing himself a mere step away from Kuroo’s bulk, crossed his arms and glared up at him. This was definitely out of his comfort zone, but— “You’re telling me you made me come in to work at _5 in the fucking morning_ on my _day off_ because you wanted to go to a _VOLLEYBALL GAME?!”_

Kuroo froze, suddenly aware that he had made a mistake. “Uh-” 

Kenma glared, shoving his phone and earbuds into his pockets as he brushed past Kuroo. He really hated this fucking job. 

⸻

“And then he had the _audacity_ to come into the breakroom with his too-small shirt and fancy ass sneakers and tell _me_ that I was only there because of a volleyball game! A _volleyball game!_ ” Kenma said, angrily smashing the buttons on his PSP, his avatar jumping wildly around the fight. He was curled up on his apartment's cheap couch, his legs thrown over Shouhei’s lap as they watched a Netflix comedy special on their living room TV. 

“Hey man, don't shit on volleyball!” Tora, their third roommate, yelled from the kitchen where he was checking on the pizza they had ordered from Papa Murphy’s. “Pizza’s done, by the way. Come get your food, gremlins.” 

Kenma let out a grunt as Shouhei shoved him off of their lap, eventually saving his game and rolling off the couch to go join his roommates in their small kitchenette. Tora, Shouehi, and him had all been living together in their off-campus apartment for a little over a year now. It was the best arrangement Kenma could’ve asked for—he got his own space, built-in socialization, and usually Shouhei and Tora took over cooking duties. Kenma had tried cooking once. They still haven’t told their landlord about the hole they patched up in the ceiling. 

The three of them slowly migrated back to their living room, hands full of pizza and soda. Sitting on the small couch was easy, even with the three of them: Tora took one side, Kenma took the middle, and Shouhei perched on the arm rest. Their friendship came easy, relaxed banter overlaying the muted sounds of the generic crime show playing on their TV. 

“So, Kenma,” Tora said, taking a big bite out of his pizza slice. “Tell me more about this hot stranger that pissed you off.” 

Kenma choked on his Dr. Pepper, using one hand to beat against his chest and a foot to kick Tora. “He was _not hot_!” 

“But he did piss you off.”

“Duh. He made me come in to _work to open on my day off_!” 

“Aren’t ‘hot guys with good arms who could pin you to a wall’ your type?”

“NO! And he wasn’t hot! And he _definitely_ didn’t have good arms.” Kenma could feel his blush rise rapidly and prayed that his roommates wouldn’t call him out on it. He felt a toe nudge against his thigh. 

“I think Kenma doth protest too much.” 

“SHOUHEI! Whose side are you _on_?!” Shouhei shrugged, taking another nibble off of their pizza slice. 

“I hate it here,” Kenma grumbled, sinking lower into the couch. On the screen, the main detective tackled the bad guy of the week. 

“You love us,” Tora replied, stealing Kenma’s Dr. Pepper and taking a swig. 

Kenma harrumphed. Shouhei cackled. 

It was a good night. 

⸻

Two nights later, Kenma was wiping down tables after the last rush of the day when an unfortunately familiar man walked into _Cat’s Cradle_. 

Kenma turned his back to the doorway, deliberately putting more effort into making sure this table was so clean Shouyou could lick sugar right off of it. 

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Kuroo sauntered up to the counter, bending over to lean his forearms against the granite top. He looked significantly more put-together today, wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark blue jeans—the only thing that saved him from looking like a complete country boy was his expensive sneakers. 

His hair still looked stupid, though. 

Konoha seemed familiar with Kuroo, chatting casually as he whipped up two drinks seemingly from memory. Kuroo seemed at ease here in a way Kenma couldn’t bring himself to be, even getting Keiji to peek his head out from the office and say hello for a second. 

Eventually Kenma got bored of his attempted eavesdropping, and turned his back to the counter and went to work on cleaning the front tables. The repetition of cleaning the tables soothed Kenma—spray, wipe, repeat. 

Unfortunately, Kuroo held no such reverence for his pattern. Stepping up next to him, Kuroo stuck a cup of coffee under his nose. Kenma stood up to full height and raised an eyebrow at Kuroo.

“Don’t give me that look,” Kuroo said, smirking. He bumped into Kenma softly, smirk relaxing into something a little more genuine. “I realize that it was a little unfair of me to make you come in and cover for me just so I could sleep in more. So, I thought I’d make it up to you.” 

Kenma startled at Kuroo’s sheepish response. After he had some time to rest, he wasn’t all that upset and he figured that the two of them would’ve just let the situation go and never talked to each other again. He reached out to grab the coffee— _why waste a free drink?_ —and took a sip. Kenma perked up. “Is this—”

“A white mocha with caramel? Konoha said it was your favorite.” Kuroo seemed proud that he offered the right sacrifice, smiling softly as Kenma chugged his mocha. 

Kuroo took a sip from his own drink as Kenma emerged for air, his hackles down now that he was placated with caffeine. Looking over his shoulder, Kenma saw Keiji (subtly) and Konoha (not as subtly) watching the two of them. Cradling the warm beverage in his hands, he turned to fully face Kuroo. _He’s so tall and for what? Donate some of that height, giant._

“So? Am I forgiven by the great Kenma Kozume?” Kuroo asked, looking down at Kenma as he took another sip from his own drink. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet,” Kenma responded, the edges of his lips quirked up in an imitation of a smile. “Might take a little bit more than coffee to convince me, _Kuro_.” 

Tetsurou cackled at the challenge. His laugh kind of reminded Kenma of a hyena, but in an endearing way. “That’s not even how you—nevermind. When’s your shift over?” 

“Roughly two hours.”

“How about this,” Kuroo said, leaning close and dropping his voice. “I’ll pick you up after your shift and take you to get some sushi. My treat.” 

Kenma lifted his cup in a _cheers_ , smiling softly as Kuroo tapped his cup against it. “Sounds like a plan.” 

⸻

“Do you have any hobbies?” Kuroo asked, right before shoveling a piece of sushi into his mouth. Kenma cringed, unable to drag his eyes away from the gruesome sight across the restaurant table from him. 

“What is this, twenty questions?” Kenma shot back, absentmindedly using his chopsticks to stir his soy sauce. “Don’t answer that with your mouth full.” 

Kuroo swallowed, smiling sheepishly as he pointed his chopsticks in Kenma’s face. “I want to get to know more about you! Is that a crime now, _Kozume_?” 

“Well, if we’re going to sit here getting to know each other, we might as well do it right. Twenty questions, ten for you and ten for me. Full honesty,” Kenma challenged, smiling. 

“That’s not how you play twenty questions.”

“I don’t care. First question: do you have any siblings?” 

“Why do you get the first question when you didn’t even answer mine?”

“We hadn’t started the game yet. Obviously.” 

“ _Obviously_ ,” Kuroo grumbled—but there was still a begrudging smile on his face, so Kenma didn’t put too much stock in it. “Well, if you really want to know, I have one. An older sister. She’s a professor of neuropsychology at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology ‘cause they fund her research into psychopaths. It’s really fascinating stuff, she was just published in a big journal a couple months ago. Right now I think she’s considered the top researcher for the neuropsychological perspective on psychopathology,” Kuroo scooped up another piece of sushi nonchalantly, like he didn’t just admit to being related to a professor in the biggest STEM college on the coast.

“So why are you in this dump of a small town instead of there?” Kenma blurted out, unable to help himself from leaning forward. Kuroo waved his chopsticks in a big circle, a piece of rice flying off somewhere behind him.

“Ah ah ah, one question at a time. Them’s the rules.”

_ I don’t remember adding that to the rules _ , Kenma grumbled internally. He sighed, leaning back into the vinyl covering the back of the booth. “Fine, what’s your question?” 

“Hasn’t changed! Do you have any hobbies?” Kuroo asked, seemingly insistent on the answer. Kenma grinned. 

“I play competitive Tetris.” 

Kuroo paused, blinking slowly. His answer took a moment to process, before Kuroo jerked forward. “That’s a _thing?!_ ” 

Kenma giggled at Kuroo’s face of shock, shrugging slightly. “Yeah, but I don’t actually do it—I was just messing with you. I do play a lot of video games though.” Kuroo’s mouth hung open, his body seemingly paused before he lurched back into motion, one hand dramatically clutching his chest. 

“I can’t believe you would deceive me like this!” he cried, drawing glances from other patrons. Kenma quickly stifled his laughter, shoulders hiking up as he scrunched down in his seat to appear smaller. Even when they weren’t looking directly at _him_ , all the eyes in his direction made him uneasy. 

Kuroo seemed to pick up on this, and brought his long arms closer to his body, slouching over a little bit. When he spoke, his voice was a little softer, warm and deep echoes that reached Kenma’s ears and no one else's. “Let me guess: your favorite video game is something...classic. Stealthy. Like _Metal Gear Solid_.” 

Kenma felt his shoulders relax as he peered up from his sushi. A small smile graced his lips as he shoved a potsticker in his mouth. “Close. It’s actually _Monster Hunter_.” 

Kuroo cursed softly. “Damn! I was pretty close though, right?”

“Oh, totally—” Kenma rolled his eyes dramatically—“So close.” 

They made eye contact for a split second before breaking off into fits of soft laughter, the warm glow of the restaurant lights spilling over both of them as the rest of the conversation flowed.

⸻

Kenma had just clocked into his shift and he was already regretting showing up to work. 

“KENMA! Hey I haven’t seen you since you worked that opening! How are you doing? How are your classes? Are you excited for Christmas? What about-”

“Hi Koutarou. I’m doing fine,” Kenma placed one hand on Koutarou’s shoulder to interrupt his stream of questions, reeling a little from the sudden presence of energy. 

“Aw, back up a little Kou. Gotta give _Kyanma_ over here room to go up front for his shift,” Kuroo’s voice floated in the doorway, his head appearing behind Koutarou a split second later.

“Don’t call me that,” Kenma scowled, stepping to the side so that the two taller men could enter the breakroom. He ducked by them, speedwalking to the registers so that he could just start his shift and avoid _dumb and dumber_ chilling in the breakroom. 

Unfortunately, the universe (and Tetsurou Kuroo) had other plans for him. 

Kenma had turned his back to the registers for a _second_ , just long enough to grab a new Sharpie from the marker bin on the back counter. By the time he turned back around, Kuroo stood in front of the registers, a shit eating grin on his face. 

“Can I...help you?” Kenma grounded out, gripping the Sharpie tightly. 

“I’m a paying customer! Shouldn’t you treat me with respect?” Kuroo cried, bringing one hand up to his forehead like he was some dainty maiden. “Do I need to speak to your manager?” 

“If you want to talk to Keiji, be my guest.” 

Kuroo dropped his dramatic stance. “Yeah, no thanks,” he shivered. 

Kenma couldn’t help but smile at the other man’s antics. “Aw, are you scared of Keiji?” 

“You aren’t?” Kuroo asked, bracing both hands against the countertop and leaning in-between the registers. Kenma shook his head _nope_ , picking up a cup from beneath the counter and starting to scribble on it. “You terrify me, Kenma.” 

“Good,” Kenma responded, setting down the mug. “Is this gonna be all for you today?” 

Kuroo paused, his confusion visible. “I haven’t...ordered anything yet?” 

“The only thing I feel like making for you is a hot chocolate, so that’s what you’re getting.” Kenma ducked down to grab the milk, placing it on the counter by the steamer. He paused, looking Kuroo straight in the eyes. “Do you remember the question game we played at the sushi place the other day?” 

“Yeah? We only got through like one question though, it wasn't much of a game.” 

“Well, I’m making the executive decision to continue it. Question two, Kuro. I want your complete honesty. How do you make your hot chocolate?” 

“Firstly, are you going to keep calling me Kuro? That’s not even my name,” Kuroo sighed. Kenma nodded and smiled to himself at the shake of Kuroo’s head—he was obviously trying to appear exasperated, but Kenma could see the amusement on his face. “Second, what kind of question is that?” 

“You heard me.” 

“With milk? I guess?” Kuroo shrugged half-heartedly. “Is there another way to make hot chocolate that I’m unaware of?” 

Kenma let out a breath of relief. “I’m glad to hear that you’re not a sinner.” 

Kuroo leaned over the partitioner between the waiting area and the cafe’s machines. “Now I’m curious. What’s the sinners way of making hot chocolate?” 

Kenma stuck the mug in the steamer. “Using water instead of milk. Also not adding whip cream.”

Kuroo made a strangled noise that made Kenma glance up out of concern. “People make hot chocolate using _water_!?” 

Nodding sagely, Kenma pulled out the whipped cream canister from the fridge below the counter. 

“So you used your second question...does that mean I get to ask _you_ a second question as well?” There was a glint in Kuroo’s eyes. 

Kenma leaned back a little. “I guess so.” 

“Question two...are you ready for it?” Kuroo smirked. Kenma raised one eyebrow, unimpressed. “Can I have your phone number?” 

“This feels like harassment.” Still, without needing much convincing, Kenma grabbed the Sharpie he had left by the registers earlier and scribbled his number on the side of Kuroo’s cup. Passing off the beverage, Kuroo snatched it up and pulled out his phone. 

“I’m putting your number in my phone as _Kyanma!_ ” Kuroo called over his shoulder. 

“Don’t you dare!” 

⸻

**_ DIRECT MESSAGE: Tetsurou Kuroo _ **

** kuro **

Are you seriously playing Danganronpa at two AM on a Sunday morning?

** kyanma **

im not answering that

** kuro **

Fine. You leave me no choice. 

** kuro **

Question three: are you seriously playing Danganronpa at 2 AM on a Sunday morning?

** kyanma **

UGHw

** kyanma **

ys i am srsly playing danganronpa at 2 am on a sunday morning 

** kyanma **

i cnt believe u wasted a question when u clearly knew the answer

** kyanma **

and interrupted my TRIAL 

** kuro **

You're absolutely crazy. 

** kyanma **

my trn

** kyanma **

question 3: y r u awake 2 be judging me @ 2 am on a sunday morning

** kuro **

….couldn’t sleep. Had a bad dream.

** kyanma **

oh

** kyanma **

wanna hang on vc 

** kuro **

Will you stream your video game to me? 

** kyanma  
** it can get pretty violent

** kuro **

That's not a no.

** kyanma **

get on discord, loser 

⸻ 

Work was so slow Kenma could almost _feel_ the seconds ticking by. 

The last customer had come in roughly half an hour ago, and with another hour remaining on his shift Kenma was almost begging for someone to come in and disrupt the peace and quiet of the shop. 

Like a knight in dented armour, Tetsurou Kuroo opened the door to _Cat’s Cradle_ and strided in. Upon seeing Kenma (and noticing the distinct lack of anyone else around) he walked right up to the counter area and leaned on the clear, rounded pastry case. Kuroo rested his chin on his folded arms and grinned at Kenma, who turned back around from where he was fiddling with the toaster. 

“Can I...help you with something?” Kenma asked, wiping his hands on his apron. 

“I’m just here to say hello! Be a good member of the economy and spend some cash and all that,” Kuroo said, his grin getting wider with each sentence. Kenma gave him a dubious look. “Fine, I’m just bored out of my mind and this is the only place that’ll let me loiter in peace.” 

Kenma sighed, turning his back to Kuroo as he went back to cleaning and fixing the toaster. Of course, it wasn’t long before Kuroo got bored with the silence and opened the gate that separated the employees-only area and the customers area, walking to Kenma’s side. “Whatcha doing?” 

“You’re not on shift, get back out from behind the counter,” Kenma said in lieu of responding, giving Kuroo a half-hearted glare. 

“Who else is even here?” Kuroo asked, leaning in closer to observe Kenma’s work.

“Shouyou left early and Keiji had to go take a phone call outside or something,” Kenma sighed. He obviously wasn’t going to be making any more progress while Kuroo was back here bugging him. 

“They just left you alone?” Kuroo asked, a surprised edge to his tone. 

Kenma shrugged. “I mean Keiji is still here, he just took a step out or something. It’s not like we’re super busy or anything.” 

Humming, Kuroo leaned closer. “Wanna make things a little more interesting?” 

“I’m a little concerned about what you mean by _making things interesting_ ,” Kenma admitted, shuffling a little farther away.

Kuroo’s laugh rang out through the shop, brash and harsh and nice to listen to, if Kenma thought about it. Which he definitely wasn’t. 

“Question game!” Kuroo said, following Kenma around as he desperately tried to appear busy. “I think we’re on four now, right?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“I’m choosing to ignore your pessimism and focus on the brightside,” Kuroo scoffed, hip checking Kenma. Kenma growled as he definitely _didn’t_ stumble and brace himself against the counter. “Question four: what is your absolute favorite food?”

Kenma paused, taking a moment to straighten up and place the rag that was still in his hands down on the counter. “Easy. Apple pie—specifically Dutch apple pie with a crumble coating on top. Although lattice-tops are also good.” 

Kuroo seemed surprised at Kenma’s answer—or maybe it was his willingness to give up the information, trivial as it may seem. Kenma could feel his cheeks heat up under Kuroo’s stare, so in a desperate bid to avoid his gaze, he turned back around and walked towards the sink at the other end. He quickly stuck his hands in and aggressively began to clean the dishes that had been neglected during the earlier rushes.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me a question?” Kenma could _hear_ Kuroo’s pout, even with his back turned. He sighed, keeping his eyes on his task of cleaning the dishes.

“If you insist,” he mumbled. “Um—what’s your go-to coffee order?” 

“Really? A little cliché, don’t you think, asking for my coffee order when we work in a coffee shop?” Kuroo laughed, seemingly comfortable where he was leaning against the register counter, watching Kenma studiously avoid him.

Kenma flushed. “Then you should have no trouble answering.” 

“Touché,” Kuroo shrugged. “It’s pretty simple, but I love an iced latte.” 

Kenma paused in his scrubbing and looked over to where Kuroo was leaning. “I would’ve taken you as the kind of guy to get a really elaborate order.”

“Eh, working here kinda ruined the appeal for me.” Kenma laughed softly at his admittance. The conversation slowly died out, leaving the two to exist together in the silence. It was a nice change of pace from his usual experiences—most people Kenma talked to were always filling up silences or expecting his contribution somehow. But Kuroo—Kuroo didn’t seem to mind just _being_ with him as he worked, the only sounds surrounding them being the soft warble of the speakers and the whirr of the espresso machines. 

⸻

**_ ᕙ _ ** **_ (` _ ** **_ ▽ _ ** **_ ´) _ ** **_ ᕗ _ ** **_ , ԅ( _ ** **_ ≖ _ ** **_ ‿ _ ** **_ ≖ _ ** **_ ԅ), and (•`_´•) walk into an apartment _ **

** mohawk **

Hey you're going over to that strangers place tonight right? 

** bleach **

4 the last time

his name is tetsurou kuroo

** normie **

¯\\\\\\_(‘ < ‘ )\\_/¯

** bleach **

+yes

im heading out rn 

** mohawk  **

Be safe

Make good choices

Dont do anything shouhei wouldnt do

** bleach **

what r u, my mom 

** normie  **

( 눈 _ 눈 )

** bleach **

srry shouhei

** normie  **

( ˘ ³˘) ノ ° ﾟ º ❍ ｡

** bleach **

yes ill be safe i promise

** normie  **

( •̀ω•́ )σ

** bleach **

yes ill be home b4 midnight

** normie  **

( ꈍ ᴗ ꈍ )ε ｀ <3

** bleach **

ily2

** mohawk **

SO YOU LISTEN TO THEM BUT NOT ME!??!?!?!?

** bleach **

bye

** mohawk **

KENMA YOU LITTLE SHIT 

** normie  **

(  ﾟヮﾟ )/

⸻ 

Kuroo’s apartment was...something. It definitely wasn’t Kenma’s taste. 

Kenma slowly looked around as he slid out of his shoes, drinking in as much information as he could. Kuroo had texted him the day before, asking him to come over so that he could “help him with a project”. He had agreed absentmindedly—it’s not like he _minded_ spending time with Kuroo, but he also liked spending valuable time with other things. Like his Playstation. Kenma had just assumed that he was asked because Koutarou was busy, and he _was_ invited, but still—standing in the front of the apartment racked Kenma with a foreboding sense of unbelonging.

“Sorry it's a bit of a mess,” Kuroo said, drawing Kenma out of his head and back into focus. “But I’m glad you’re here! Come into the kitchen and I’ll make us some tea or something.” Kuroo waved him forward down a hallway and through a doorway into a small but neat kitchen. Dishes weren’t piled in the sink and towels hung neatly off of the dishwasher and oven handles, so he definitely wasn’t the slob Kenma had kind of assumed he was. “I have chai, chamomile, and lavender—or I can get you water or something?” 

Kenma fidgeting in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Going to new people’s houses was always so nerve-wracking—what was the right thing to say? To do? Were there certain rules he didn’t know about, specific items or rooms to steer clear of? “Uh. Water, please.” 

Kuroo hummed, flitting around the kitchen effortlessly. This was Kenmas first time seeing him in his own space. The apartment seemed to form around him, little details that made it clear that this was _Kuroo’s home_ —cookbooks and textbooks stacked together on the counter, ill-matching mugs lined on the shelf, a framed photo of Kuroo in a graduation cap with a woman who Kenma assumed to be his older sister hanging on the wall. 

Sliding a glass of water in front of him, Kuroo called out a _“I’ll grab the stuff, be right back!”_ over his shoulder as he exited the kitchen. Kenma fidgeted in his chair, taking slow sips from the water as he waited for Kuroo to come back. _It was rude to be on your phone in someone else’s house, right_? 

Luckily, Kuroo didn’t take long to re-enter the kitchen—this time with a large plastic bag in his arms. Setting it down on the counter, Kuroo gave Kenma an odd look. “Are you just...sitting here?” 

Kenma froze. “Is there something else I’m supposed to be doing?” 

“I just figured you’d be playing a game on your phone,” Kuroo shrugged. “You’re more than welcome to, by the way. No need to stand on ceremony here.” He reached into the bag and started pulling out supplies. Kenma just watched as Kuroo pulled out two pairs of cheap white converse, a quart ziploc baggie filled to the brim with random Sharpies, a few colors in acrylic paints, a tiny jar of what Kenma assumed to be mod podge, and a couple of loose paintbrushes of varying sizes. Kuroo arranged the supplies in the middle of the table, setting one pair of sneakers in front of Kenma and the other in front of his chair. 

“What, exactly, was the project you called me over to do again?” Kenma poked the sneakers with his finger. They looked clean, at least. 

“We’re decorating sneakers!” Kuroo cheered, reaching out to grab a thick black Sharpie. “This is a little tradition I have with new friends. We each decorate a pair of shoes for the other person and get to know each other while we do it!” Kuroo’s smile was bright and genuine, and Kenma felt like he had to look away. 

“Is this why you asked me for my shoe size the other day?” Kenma asked, slowly reaching out to grab the sneakers. If these were really Kuroo’s shoe size then the man had some _big feet_. Kenma swallowed.

“Yup,” Kuroo said. He uncapped his Sharpie and started doodling on the toe of the sneaker.

“Are there any...rules?” Kenma asked tentatively, reaching into the middle to grab a dark red Sharpie. 

“Nope.” Kuroo’s tongue was sticking out between his teeth, his concentration totally on the sneakers in front of him. “I want to see what you create. No rules, no restrictions—just Kenma.” 

That sounded...nice. Just Kenma, this clean canvas, a couple of Sharpies, and Kuro. 

Time passed quickly after that, the smell of Sharpies and acrylics filling the air. Kenma worked diligently at his assigned sneaker—he wasn’t much of an artist, but he had been doodling for years, so this was familiar. The first sneaker was easily finished, varying shades of red decorating the white canvas. Kenma set it down on the table, quietly proud of how the first one turned out. Before he could pick up the second shoe, Kuroo’s voice pierced through his concentration.

“Ooo, I like what you did there! Is the cat on the heel flipping me off?” Kuroo asked. He held his first sneaker in his hand, using a bright blue Sharpie to fill in a flower on the tongue loop. Kenma nodded, turning the shoe slightly so Kuroo could see the cat in its full glory. Kuroo laughed, loud and free, and Kenma couldn’t help but be drawn into his joy and smile too. 

“Now that we’re both half way through, do you want anything to eat?” Kuroo stood up from his chair and moved towards the fridge. “I got some fruits and cheese and shit.” 

Kenma, feeling more and more comfortable in Kuroo’s space, nodded. “Do you have any apples?” Kuroo’s smile was more than enough of a response as he grabbed a bright red apple from a basket beside the fridge and tossed it his way. Kenma caught it handedly (years of being friends with Shouyou and roommates with Tora paying off) and took a big bite out of the side. The apple was fresh and juicy, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes and savor the fruit. 

Kuroo sat back down across from Kenma. “Hey. Since we’re here to learn more about each other and stuff...do you wanna continue the question game?” He seemed almost unsure of himself as he asked, and Kenma couldn’t help but tilt his head and raise his eyebrows in a silent _you really have to ask_? 

“Fair point. I guess we are already on question five,” Kuroo said, biting into his own snack of choice—which, apparently, consisted of individually wrapped cheeses and a tin of chocolate covered almonds. Still, Kenma couldn’t help but appreciate how well Kuroo was able to read him. “Alright then, I’ll start. Question five...what is your most embarrassing moment?” 

Kenma choked on his apple. Coughing slightly, he gave Kuroo a bewildered look. “Why do you want to know that?” 

“Professional curiosity.”

“There’s nothing _professional_ about you and you know it.”

“Actually, I happen to look _fantastic_ in a three piece suit.” The worst part was, Kenma couldn’t bring himself to disagree. The mental image of Kuroo in a suit was—enjoyable. In a platonic way. “Answer the question, Kenmaaaaaaa.”

Kenma pouted, putting down his apple and wiping his hands on his jeans. “I guess it would have to be...this one time, I was going to the store with my mom. I had my DS out and was just following her around so I wasn’t really paying attention,” he said, keeping his eyes on his fidgeting hands out of embarrassment. “Well, as I moved to leave the store behind my mom I happened to look up and realized that the person I was following wasn’t my mom. I had just been following this random woman around the store for who knows how long.” 

Glancing up, Kenma saw Kuroo bright red in the face, obviously trying to hold back his laughter. He had to admire his restraint, but Kenma was resigned to his fate. “You can laugh.” 

Kuroo’s hyena cackle filled the kitchen, a full body laugh that almost caused him to hit his head against the table. Kenma sighed.

Eventually Kuroo’s laughter calmed down to a manageable giggle. He wiped a tear from his eye dramatically. “That’s pretty funny, but it can’t have been your most embarrassing moment. You were like, what? Seven?”

Kenma flushed bright red. “I was fifteen.” 

Kuroo’s laugh came back in full force. “FIFTEEN?!” Kenma nodded, putting his head in his hands as he waited out Kuroo’s amusement. “Alright, I’ll give it to you, that _is_ pretty embarrassing.”

“Thank you for your validation, Kuro.” 

“But I gotta know, what was your mom's reaction to you almost getting yourself kidnapped?” Kuroo leaned forward, almost knocking over the jar of mod podge and one of the acrylics.

Kenma snatched both of them over to his side, blushing again. “Not part of the question.” Kuroo whined at his response, flopping his giant torso onto the table. Kenma calmly recollected himself to the tune of Kuroo’s pleas for more information and put all of the art supplies off to the side. It seems that it would take a moment before they needed it again.

“Oh!” Kuroo perked up considerably. Kenma paused, dread starting to sink into his stomach. “Question six!”

“Don’t do it.”

“What was your mom's reaction?”

“Boo, you whore.” 

“Don’t be rude!”

Kenma groaned, half-heartedly tossing one of the Sharpies at Kuroo’s hair. “If you really want to know that badly, she laughed so hard she gave herself a headache. Then she and the lady I was following ended up talking for like, half an hour. I think they’re still Facebook friends and play Rummikub together online.” Kenma grabbed his phone from his pocket, working quickly to open his music and shuffle his favorite playlist. “And that’s all I’m telling you. Shouldn’t we work on the other shoes, anyway?” 

Kuroo agreeably picked up his second sneaker, his giggles interspersed with the pop punk coming from Kenma’s speaker. The two of them worked in silence again, every once in a while asking for the other to pass a certain color or apologizing softly if their hands bumped. Kenma had decided to go with a black Sharpie this time, doodling swirls and shapes over the canvas. He was almost completely done with the left shoe when Kuroo shocked him out of his focus by drawing a smiley face on his hand. 

“Don’t forget to sign your work!” Kuroo said, smiling brightly at Kenma’s glare. 

“What does that even mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. Leave your signature somewhere on one of the shoes!”

“Absolutely not.”

“At least do your initials or _something_. Be proud of your work Kenma!” Sensing that he was losing this argument, Kenma rolled his eyes and placed a simple _KK_ on the inside heel. 

“Is that good enough?” 

Kuroo’s smile was soft around the edges, and his voice was warm. “Perfect.” Kenma could feel a different kind of knot settle into his stomach the longer he looked at the way Kuroo’s eyes crinkle when he smiled or how one of his teeth was a little bit crooked or—

Kenma ducked his head. “I didn’t get to ask you my question five yet.” He could almost _feel_ Kuroo’s dubious look at Kenma’s sudden change in topic.

“I guess not. Do you have one ready?” Kenma thanked his lucky stars that Kuroo didn’t question Kenma’s sudden need to stop thinking about his _stupid sexy smile_ —

“Uh—” Kenma scrambled for a second to find a suitable question. Kuroo had a good one that made Kenma _actually_ talk about himself, so Kenma wanted to return the favor in full. “What’s one secret that you’ve never told anyone else?” 

Kuroo paused, contemplating the question. He was thinking silently for so long that Kenma almost considered offering a different question, but before he could Kuroo stood up out of his chair. 

“I don’t know if this really counts, but technically I’ve never _told_ anyone about this,” he said, slowly collecting the scattered crafting supplies and placing them back into the plastic bag. “But when I was a kid, maybe around ten or twelve? I used to sneak into my big sister's room and steal her skirts and dresses and try them on. I was still able to fit into her clothes back then—they were probably actually a little big on me.” Kuroo’s smile was fond with the memory. “I think a couple times I even tried putting on her makeup when she was out with her friends. I’m sure I looked like a clown.” 

Kenma giggled at the mental image of a preteen Kuroo with glaring lipstick and wonky eyeliner tripping over a too-long skirt. “Did your sister ever find out?” 

“Ah ah ah, not part of the question!” Kuroo waggled a finger in Kenma’s face as he scooped the now-full plastic bag into his arms and started walking out of the room. Without thinking, Kenma got out of his chair to follow him. 

“Come on, Kuro! There’s gotta be more to the story,” Kenma pestered, jabbing a finger into Kuroo’s side. The taller man jumped to the side, smacking Kenma’s hand lightly. 

“Nuh uh. I answered your question, so now we’re good.” 

Kenma narrowed his eyes. “If you’re gonna be like that, then here’s my question six: did your sister ever find out—”

“Well—”

“— _and_ if she did, what was her reaction?” Kuroo paused in his step, turning a full 180 to face Kenma, who had a smug smile on his face. 

“That’s two questions in one! Not playing by the rules, are we Kenma?”

“We never said anything about how the questions are phrased, and technically it's one question. It just has two parts.” The two of them had a nonverbal standoff in Kuroo’s hallway, Kenma’s smile growing wider as Kuroo’s resolve visibly weakened.

“Fine. Fine! I accept defeat _this once_ ,” Kuroo said, turning back to continue his journey down the hallway. Kenma hummed contentedly. He had a feeling that wasn’t true. “Of course my sister found out. She’s basically a genius and I wasn’t the cleanest kid. I think she confronted me after I put her skirts back in the wrong drawer and left her lipstick in her nail polish collection.” 

Kuroo opened a closet door and stuck the plastic bag on a shelf loaded with what Kenma guessed to be extra sheets and blankets. “But she was...really amazing about it,” he said, voice soft in the way it only was when he talked about his sister. He shut the door to the closet and started shuffling Kenma back to the kitchen. “When our parents would leave the house and leave her to babysit we used to have fashion shows. She would teach me how to do hair and makeup sometimes too.” 

“Too bad you still don’t know how to dress properly.” Kenma giggled as Kuroo flicked the back of his head. 

“Please, I am the pinnacle of fashion,” he refuted, pushing Kenma lightly. 

“I’m pretty sure you own at least three shirts with chemistry puns on them,” Kenma laughed, waving off Kuroo’s attempt to ruffle his hair in revenge. 

“Exactly! I make it work, Kenma, that’s all I’m saying.”

“You’ll never be Tim Gunn, don’t even try.”

“A man can dream, Kenma. A man can dream.” 

⸻

**_ DIRECT MESSAGE: Tetsurou Kuroo _ **

** kitten **

im bored

kuroooooooooooooooooooooo

tetsurou

Tetsurou Kuroo

im BORED

entertain me

** rooster **

Kenma.

It is 8 AM.

Did you get any sleep last night? 

** kitten **

*debby ryans*

** rooster **

KENMA! 

** kitten **

entertain me !!

** rooster **

If you insist. 

Let's play our question game then. 

** kitten **

ehhhh

not preferred but acceptable i GUESS

** rooster **

People who don't sleep get no rights.

Question...seven, I think?

Let’s see…

What's the worst crime you've ever committed?

** kitten **

i-

what kinda question

** rooster **

Sometimes I feel like you've murdered someone so I want to know what I’m getting into.

** kitten **

welp

nothing that drastic

i guess it would have to be that time i accidentally stole a cat

?

** rooster **

How do you *accidentally* steal a cat?

** kitten **

its not like it was ON PURPOSE

thats the definition of accidental

** rooster **

…

I know how to define accidental.

Tell me the story _kyanma_ ~

** kitten **

only if u nvr call me that again

** rooster **

I'll sacrifice.

** kitten **

poggers

long story short i went to volunteer at a shelter with my mom once

when i walked in i did not have a cat

when i walked out there was a kitten in my hoodie and we just didnt notice until we got back home

and then we just

didntt take her back

** rooster **

Is that how you got Purloin? 

IS PURLOIN A PUN?

** kitten **

u just now noticed 

and yes 

my turn 

** rooster **

We’ll come back to this later. 

** kitten **

_ sure_jan.gif _

n e way

question 7

what is 1 thing u learned way after everyone else 

** rooster **

Interesting question. Why’d you choose that? 

** kitten **

u r a very smart person

so there has to be SOMETHING that u learned super late

like maybe u didnt learn how to swim until u were like 16

** rooster **

Firstly, I am a very competent swimmer.

But I guess if I had to pick something I really didn’t learn the correct way that “laboratory” was pronounced until I met Keiji.

** kitten **

didnt u meet keiji like. 3 years ago

** rooster **

Yup.

** kitten **

literally how 

** rooster **

I told you that my sister is a psychologist, right? 

** kitten **

yeeee

a neuropsychologist right 

** rooster **

Yeah.

Well, when I was learning to talk she was around her early teens? And she had just started learning about psychology.

And because she’s a genius she decided the best way to learn would be to create her own study.

Since I wasn’t even in elementary school yet, she decided I was the perfect guinea pig. 

So she taught me to pronounce “laboratory” like lah-boar-ah-tor-ee

_ [attachment: 1 audio file] _

** kitten **

lmao

u sound like a nerd

** rooster **

You’re so kind to me Kenma.

** kitten **

its what u deserve kuro

** rooster **

You can call me Tetsurou, if you want. I don’t mind.

Kenma? 

…

Did you fall asleep? 

Goodnight, Kenma.

Sweet dreams. 

⸻

Kenma couldn’t believe he let himself be dragged out to the biggest festival this small town had to offer. 

He wasn’t originally going to go—much like the past two winters he’d spent on campus, he was planning on spending the night in his room playing _Skyrim_ with the headset off as his roommates enjoyed the festivities. 

But then Tetsurou had knocked on his door, and like a whirlwind of winter cheer with a backpack, got Kenma bundled up and out the door. 

It seemed like everyone and their roommate had showed up to the festivities this year; the only place Kenma wouldn’t feel suffocated is the road, which was kept clear for the parade that was scheduled to go through later. Kenma grimaced as yet _another_ stranger bumped into his back. Everyone here was so tall, and so _loud_ , and there wasn’t any room for him to _just breathe_ —

Tetsurou grabbed his hand. 

The weight of his large palm was grounding, his fingers easily tangling with Kenma’s in a way that made him feel safe. Kenma squeezed his hand once, twice, and Tetsurou gave a little tug as if to say _follow me._ The two of them made their way through the thick crowd, Kenma almost stepping on Tetsurou’s heels the whole way, eyes squeezed shut to avoid the stares of _so many strangers_. 

Eventually Tetsurou started to slow his pace, squeezing Kenma’s hand twice. _It’s ok now._ Kenma slowly opened his eyes, letting the tension slowly bleed out of his shoulders and gave Tetsurou a squeeze back once he noticed where they were. It was mostly empty, a few people passed back and forth towards the main crowd, but Tetsurou had dragged him up the steps of the library roughly a block away. Kenma, now elevated, could see the crowd eagerly awaiting the arrival of the parade. He could see the lines to the concession stands selling hot chocolate and tea and another stand handing out glow sticks and coupons to the local ice cream parlour. Tetsurou tugged on his hand—they were _still holding hands_ —and Kenma let himself be pulled down to sit on the marble steps. The stone below him and the winter air were freezing cold, but Tetsurou’s body next to his made for a decent heater. No one could blame Kenma if he snuggled into Tetsurou’s side a _little_ bit, right? 

Tetsurou didn’t seem to mind, if the arm he put around Kenma’s shoulder was any indication. 

He gave Kenma another squeeze before retracting his arm to pull off his backpack and sit it at their feet. “I hope you’re ready because I came _prepared_ ,” he said, unzipping the bag.

“You actually planned to drag me out to this secluded spot?” Kenma asked, leaning closer to see what was in his mystery bag. “If you’re going to murder me, at least do it in a way that’ll put me on _Buzzfeed Unsolved_ or something.” 

Tetsurou cackled, his hyena laugh piercing the air. “I’m not going to _murder_ you—if I was, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to do it here.” Kenma nodded sagely. 

“Wouldn’t do me any favors if my murderer was caught right away.”

“Exactly.” Tetsurou let out a small grunt as he wrestled a coarse, plaid blanket from the bag. He quickly unrolled the blanket and settled it across their laps, making sure to tuck it around Kenma’s legs. Reaching back into the bag ( _how much had he managed to stuff in there?_ ) he pulled out two thermos’, handing one to Kenma. It was still warm, and as Kenma took a sniff he could smell apple and cinnamon. 

“It’s this tea that a friend of mine recommended,” Tetsurou said, before Kenma got a chance to ask. “I remember you told me how apple pie was your favorite food, and apparently this tea tastes exactly like apple pie but, like, liquified. So I thought you might like it!” Tetsurou’s grin was tentative, as if he was nervous for Kenma’s reaction, but Kenma didn’t even get a chance to blink before he was digging in the backpack again. _Seriously, how much stuff did he fit in there?_

The last thing Tetsurou pulled out of his bag was a paperback book, clearly well-loved. The front cover was faded and battered, and Kenma got a glimpse of a stain on the back cover before Tetsurou settled the book in his lap. “What’s that for?” 

Tetsurou hummed lightly, flipping to a dog-eared page. “Well, the only interesting part of this festival is the lighting of the tree, and that doesn’t happen until after the parade, so I figured we’d be here for a while. So I brought this book so I’d have something to pass the time with while you play your video games!” Kenma froze against Tetsurou’s side.

“You...planned on sitting all the way out here with me? Not hanging out with your friends enjoying the parade?” Kenma asked, voice soft in disbelief. The crowd was slowly getting louder—it looked like the parade was about to start. 

“Well, yeah,” Tetsurou said, shrugging one shoulder. He flipped a page. “I mean firstly, you _are_ my friend. And you don’t really strike me as the _crowd_ type. And I’d much rather spend this time with you than squashed and jostled in a festive mosh-pit of mostly strangers.” 

Kenma swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat, unsure of what to say. Instead, he pulled his old DS out of his bag that he had barely managed to grab before being shoved out the door, and booted it up. 

The time passed quickly in their warm little bubble, the crowd's cheers and parade’s music a comfortable ambiance. Soon the last float passed by, and Tetsurou gave Kenma a little nudge as Sugawara Koushi, Eastern’s student body president, walked out into the middle of the road with a microphone.

“Hello everybody!” His voice was cheerful as it reverberated around the main street. “I won’t say much as we lead up to the part you’ve all been waiting for, but we do have a few sponsors to thank for their work tonight!” 

Kenma slowly tuned him out, lifting his head to look at Tetsurou. He looked beautiful in the dim lights, shadows playing across his cheekbones and his hair swaying slightly in the wind.

“We haven’t done our question game in a while,” Kenma said softly, one hand picking at the edge of the blanket. “What number are we on again?” 

“Eight, I think.” 

“Alright. Question eight,” Kenma paused, taking a second to think of a good question. He hadn’t initiated a question in a while, and he really wasn’t prepared. “Um...what’s your go-to break up song?”

Tetsurou laughed, a burst of surprise at the question. “Damn, I wasn’t expecting that! What makes you think I’d have a break up song just at hand? Maybe I’m a relationship virgin, didja ever think of that?” 

“No way. You look like a player.” Kenma flushed bright red, hoping that Tetsurou would blame it on the chill night air. 

Tetsurou’s laughter tapered off into a small giggle. “I wouldn’t call myself a _player_ , but I’ve had my share of breakups. I think my go-to song would be _All Too Well_. Or _Picture to Burn_ , maybe.”

“You’re a Swiftie?” Kenma asked, both eyebrows raised in surprise. “I thought something like _Set It Off_ would’ve been more your style.” 

Tetsurou shrugged. “That’s definitely a solid band, but nothing hits after a breakup like belting Taylor Swift in your car, crying as you speed down the highway.” 

Kenma gave Tetsurou a _look_. “Don’t judge me, you’re the one that asked!” Tetsurou cried, giving Kenma’s shoulders a light shove. He couldn’t help but laugh, giving Tetsurou a nudge with his shoulder back. 

“Alright, my turn.” Tetsurou leaned back, bracing his palms against the cool stone of the staircase. “Question eight! What is….the thing you listen to to fall asleep?” 

“Are you seriously using your question to ask how I fall asleep?” Kenma asked. 

“It might be important!” Tetsurou asked, leaning into Kenma’s side. 

“If you say so,” Kenma said. “Usually I like to fall asleep to my favorite DnD podcast. It’s nerdy but I like to listen to other voices to distract me. Plus the repetition is nice.” 

The crowd's sudden yelling caught the boys attention. “Ten! Nine!”

Tetsurou nudged Kenma with his elbow. “Looks like the tree’s about to light up. Are you ready?”

“Four! Three!” 

Kenma nodded. 

“Two! One!” 

The night sky burst into a myriad of colors, the giant pine tree covered from top to bottom in rainbow lights. A large star rested on the top, gold and splendid. Kenma glanced up—the lights danced across Tetsurou’s skin, the star and the rainbow reflected in his eyes. His smile was genuine, and Kenma couldn’t help but smile with him. 

Kenma rested his head against Tetsurou’s shoulder and entangled their fingers under the blanket. A warm, pleasant feeling settled in his ribs as the two of them spent the rest of their night in a comfortable silence. 

⸻

“ _Sooooo_ how was your date with rooster head?” Kenma hadn’t even had a chance to take off his coat before his overbearing roommates assaulted him with questions. Well, it was really just Tora laying on the couch— _was he playing on Kenma’s switch?!_ —and Shouhei peeking their head out of the kitchen, chewing on something. 

“First of all, it wasn’t a date,” Kenma responded, voice muffled by the sweatshirt he was pulling over his head. “Second, his name is Tetsurou Kuroo.” 

“Turn over a new rock.”

“You’re so right Shouhei. Who still uses full names to introduce someone to your friends after you’ve been dating—sorry, _not dating—_ this long?” Tora flopped back down on the couch. 

“I hate both of you. What are you making, Shouhei?” Kenma stepped out of his shoes and started walking towards the delicious smell that was coming from the kitchen. He barely made it two steps before Shouhei’s head poked out of the kitchen doorway again. They glared at Kenma, pointing to the couch. Kenma sat. 

“You got banished too, huh?” 

“Give me my switch, loser.”

“No way! I’m in the middle of a boss fight!” 

“You’re playing _ANIMAL CROSSING!_ ” Kenma cried, lunging across the couch to pin Tora, reaching for the joycons. The two wrestled for a minute, and they only stopped after Tora bucked his hips and forced Kenma off the couch. Kenma looked up from where he lay on the floor, and raised one hand holding the joycons in victory. Tora cried out in agony, causing Shouhei to peek their head out of the kitchen again. 

“Chill out, Mr Freeze.” 

Kenma lifted his head from the floor. “Is dinner ready?” 

Shouhei tilted their head. “Have you asked out your crush?” Kenma let his head fall back onto the floor with a dull _thud_ , groaning loudly enough that he might get a noise complaint later. He placed his hands on his face and allowed a muffled _no_ to escape between them.

Tora sat up quickly, pointing one finger dramatically at Kenma’s prone figure. “Ah _ha!_ I knew you had a crush on him!” Kenma dragged his hands down his face so that his eyes were free to glare at his friend. 

Knowing he lost, Kenma tried one last time to preserve his dignity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Tora _tsked_ loudly. “You can’t run from the truth, Ken-ken. Shouhei, you heard his confession right?” Shouhei hummed a tune that both of them took to mean _yes of course. We’ve been knew._

Kenma groaned again. “Fine. FINE! I may have a tiny, insignificant crush on Tetsurou. But I’m not going to do anything about it so we can drop the discussion now.” Without even opening his eyes he could tell that his two closest friends were absolutely _not_ going to drop the discussion. 

He should’ve moved in with Shouyou.

⸻

Kenma’s college campus really was beautiful in winter. 

It was just starting to get cold enough for snow, a light dusting decorating the tall trees and on the sidewalks, just enough to show footprints. Kenma was appropriately bundled up, his favorite sweatshirt under a thick winter jacket, a scarf, a knit cap, and gloves that were thick enough to be warm but not too thick that it impeded his gaming. 

Tetsurou, walking next to him, was _not_ dressed for the weather. It was like he was determined to get hypothermia, wearing a measly t-shirt and light jacket over a pair of jeans.

“I can feel you judging me from down there, kitten,” Tetsurou said, matching his pace with Kenma’s. “I’m not underdressed, you’re just overkill.” 

Kenma jabbed him in the side. 

Hissing, Tetsurou swatted back at Kenma’s arm, careful to make sure that he didn’t interrupt the boss fight Kenma was currently struggling with. “Why are you so violent? Even after I offered to pick you up after class and everything—” 

“Yeah, and I thought that meant you would drive me home or something. Not walk with me and make fun of me the whole way.” 

“Kenma, I don’t even have a car.”

“That seems like a _you_ problem.” 

“Why would I even need a car here?” Tetsurou swung one arm out to gesture to the campus. “You can cover the whole campus _and_ town in a forty-five minute walk, and if I ever need to go to the city, public transportation exists.” 

Kenma hummed in response, kicking lightly at the snow and leaves crunching under his feet as his avatar dodged a blast of fire. “Why did you decide to come to school here anyway? You said your sister was a professor at a big school and you’re plenty smart, so I’m sure you could’ve gotten in anywhere. Why here?” 

Tetsurou paused in his tracks, peering down at Kenma who stopped next to him. “Why do you wanna know?” 

“Call it my question nine.” 

Tetsurou snorted. “Fine, fine. I guess I came here because of the environment. I visited with Kou, ‘cause he was being scouted for the volleyball team here, and I instantly fell in love. Plus, Kou got a good scholarship and committed here, so I would already know someone.” 

Kenma nodded to himself. His avatar stabbed through another hell creature. 

“Does this mean I get to ask _you_ a question now?” 

“That's how we’ve been playing the game this whole time.”

“Hmm...what to ask…” Tetsurou slowed his pace, and Kenma unconsciously matched it. “Oh, I got it! What made you decide to start working at _Cat’s Cradle_?” 

Out of all of the questions Tetsurou could have asked, that was one Kenma wasn’t expecting. 

“Well, there wasn’t any grand reason,” Kenma said, keeping his eyes and focus on the video game. He trusted Tetsurou to make sure that he wouldn’t run into anything. “I needed a job so I could move out of the dorms and Keiji promised to make my interview painless. It was really a no-brainer.” 

“That sounds nice,” Tetsurou said, his voice a little bit distant. Kenma looked up from his game to see Tetsurou gazing out into the horizon, seemingly lost in thought. He looked beautiful, the winter sun highlighting his face and snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes.

“Yeah,” Kenma murmured. “It is.” 

⸻

**_ ᕙ _ ** **_ (` _ ** **_ ▽ _ ** **_ ´) _ ** **_ ᕗ _ ** **_ , ԅ( _ ** **_ ≖ _ ** **_ ‿ _ ** **_ ≖ _ ** **_ ԅ), and (•`_´•) walk into an apartment _ **

** mohawk **

Do you remember the plan kenma ???

** bleach **

wtf r u talking abt

i never agreed to any plan

** mohawk **

The plan to ask out that boy of yours!!!!!!!!

** bleach  **

yeah right

no fucking way im asking him out 

** normie **

\\\\(°^°)/

** bleach **

i appreciate the support

but i dont wanna 

so put ur support behind something a little more feasible

like tora not flunking his classes

** mohawk  **

IM NOT FLUNKING

!!!!!!!! DONT CHANGE THE TOPIC

You gotta have guts kenma!!!! 

Or else youll be alone forever with your video games and cats

** bleach **

that sounds amazing

where do i sign up 

** normie  **

O=('-'Q)

** mohawk **

EXACTLY !!!

If you never put yourself out there then youll never grow

Be the butterfly you were always ment to be 

** bleach **

this conversation is over

** mohawk  **

WE WILL SUCCEED IN GETTING YOU TO ASK OUT THIS DUDE

MARK MY WORDS KENMA KOZUME 

** normie  **

※\\\\(^o^)/※

** bleach **

im blocking both of u

⸻

Not even a full week later, Tora and Shouhei had finally succeeded in wearing Kenma down. As he approached the brightly-lit coffee shop, Tetsurou’s favorite coffee (a medium iced latte with a swirl of caramel drizzle on top to spice it up) clenched solidly between his hands, he regretted ever making friends.

“‘Just put yourself out there’, they said,” Kenma muttered, slowly picking up the pace. “‘He totally likes you back’, they said. Well have they considered the fact that this is humiliating?” He glanced up from his feet as someone shuffled by him, the stranger giving him a strange look at his mumblings. Kenma flushed, feeling the heat on his cheeks burn in the cold winter air. He shoved his head back down into his scarf, walking faster until he stood outside the large glass window. The rainbow lights reflected off the white window painting, creating a halo effect for the worst thing Kenma had ever seen.

In the middle of the shop, in full view of the window, stood Tetsurou, arms wrapped around the waist of another familiar tall, built man. Koutarou, who had nothing but _so kind_ to Kenma that he couldn’t even find it within him to hate the other man—

They seemed absorbed in each other, dancing in a circle to what Kenma assumed to be Tetsurou’s terrible Christmas playlist. Kenma squeezed the cup in his hands tighter as he watched Tetsurou slowly lean in and place a chaste kiss on the other mans’ cheek, a soft smile and blush littering both of their faces. 

Part of him deeply wanted to be wrong, to believe that his eyes were tricking him or that this was just a bad dream—one pinch to the arm and he’d wake up ready to convince his friends that it was totally unnecessary to ask Tetsurou out. 

But another part of him, the bigger part that was a writhing mass of ugly jealousy banging against his ribcage, knew that he should have seen this coming. Koutarou, with his good looks, great body, and sunshine-incarnate personality—everything that Kenma _wasn’t_ —would be perfect for Tetsurou.

They fit into each other's arms like pieces from the puzzle Tetsurou had littered across his living room coffee table. 

Kenma’s vision blurred with unshed tears as he dropped the coffee cup into the snow pile at his feet, warm coffee splashing against the white snow as Kenma turned heel and ran away as fast as he possibly could.

⸻

**_ ᕙ _ ** **_ (` _ ** **_ ▽ _ ** **_ ´) _ ** **_ ᕗ _ ** **_ , ԅ( _ ** **_ ≖ _ ** **_ ‿ _ ** **_ ≖ _ ** **_ ԅ), and (•`_´•) walk into an apartment _ **

** bleach **

can u guys come pick me up? 

** normie  **

┬┴┬┴┤( ･ _├┬┴┬┴

** mohawk **

Is that punctuation??

What's wrong where are you shouhei is starting the car 

** bleach **

i saw tetsurou w someone else 

didnt even get a chance to give him the stupid drink 

god im such an idiot im sorry 

** mohawk **

Don't you dare apologize kenma kozume 

Shouhei and i will be there soon

Then we’ll grab some ice cream and we can watch pixels and you can kick our asses at mario kart

** bleach **

can it be ben&jerry's

** mohawk **

Fuck yeah

Where are you? Shouhei is pulling out now 

** bleach **

k

im right outside the food carts on main

** mohawk **

Alright. We’ll be there soon

Do you have your headphones? Listen to that playlist shouhei made you 

** bleach **

already doing that

** mohawk **

Shouhei says “poggers” 

They also want me to send you this 

( ˘ ³˘) (  ・・ ) ノ ''(ᴗ ᴗ 。 )

** bleach **

ily guys 2

⸻

**_ Keiji _ **

_ Enjoy your week off, Kenma. I’ll see you later. _

Kenma swiped the notification off his home screen, tossing his phone onto the coffee table by the couch. He had taken Shouhei’s suggestion and called out for the whole week—he didn’t want to take _any_ chances of running into Tetsurou, especially while he still looked and felt like a heartbroken mess. 

A loud knock echoed throughout the empty apartment, startling Kenma out of his burrito blanket on the couch and onto the floor. He landed with a soft _thud_ , probably pissing off his downstairs neighbors, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care as he slowly dragged himself to his knees with a groan. 

As he slowly worked his way out of his blanket trap and up to standing, the knocking at the door got increasingly more insistent. _Well it's definitely not Shouhei or Tora,_ Kenma thought to himself as his sock-clad feet finally felt freedom, _and the delivery guy doesn’t care enough for this_. 

The knocking had yet to ease up. 

Kenma finally stalked over to the front door, yanking it open with a growled _“What?!”_

Standing in his apartment complex's hallway was Tetsurou Kuroo, who seemed to overestimate Kenma’s force in opening the door and leaned forward with no way to stop his momentum. 

The two of them toppled to the ground, Kenma squeaking as his back hit the floor and the solid mass of a man more than six feet tall rested on his hips. One of Tetsurou’s hands was cradling the back of his head to prevent it from smacking against the floor as the other rested by his shoulder.

Tetsurou seemed to go through the five stages of grief in ten seconds, his bright blush traveling under his shirt collar as he scrambled off of Kenma’s lap onto his feet. Kenma took a deep breath once the weight was off, slowly pushing himself up to a standing position. Tetsurou reached a hand down in an attempt to help him up, but Kenma brushed it aside. He could stand on his own.

“Sorry! Sorry- I uh,” Tetsurou stuttered, wiping his palms on his jeans. “I didn’t mean to fall on you, obviously - shit, I had a whole _plan-_ ”

“What are you doing here, Kuro?” Kenma bit out, crossing his arms over his chest and ducking his head down just enough that his hair fell to frame his face. Tetsurou was wearing a distinctive pair of white converse—the ones that Kenma had decorated with red and black doodles in Tetsurou’s apartment. He could clearly see the signature Tetsuoru had insisted he leave on the left heel. 

Tetsurou paused, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “Taketora told me what you saw.” 

“Don’t listen to what he told you, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” 

“So you _didn’t_ see Kou and I hugging inside _Cat’s Cradle_ last week?” 

Kenma needed to change the topic. “Why did you come here?” _Shouldn’t you be with him instead?_

“Because I had to clear this up! Kou is my best friend, yeah, but I’m definitely not attracted to him like that,” Tetsurou exclaimed, waving his hands around. Kenma took another step back out of range—there is no reason _anyone’s_ limbs need to be that long. “We’re just...really touchy-feely friends, ya know?” 

But Kenma _didn’t_ know. Kenma had never been a touchy-feely person, relying on words and actions to show his affection. Most of his friends understood—Shouhei and Tora both mostly respected his wish for physical distance and Shouyou was...Shouyou, but he didn’t really count anyways. Even his family weren’t physically affectionate—his parents weren’t fans of PDA and the most they would do is chaste kisses every once in a while or hold hands in the living room. 

“Question ten,” Kenma blurted out, unable to resist. He had to know. “If I kissed you right now would it be _just as friends_?” Time froze between the two of them.

Tetsurou took a step forward, crowding Kenma’s space in a way that, if it was with anyone else, would’ve made Kenma feel suffocated and trapped. Instead, Kenma basked in the warmth of Tetsurou’s body heat, comforted by the way he loomed protectively. 

“Question ten,” Tetsurou echoed in a whisper. He leaned down and placed his hands on Kenma’s cheeks, slowly lifting his face so that they were looking each other in the eye. Tetsurou’s eyes were soft, the edges of his grin made his eyes crinkle and showed off his smile lines. “Would you kiss me back?” 

Kenma swallowed, his lips involuntarily lifting upwards into a bright smile. “Always.” 

**Author's Note:**

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